


From the Bad Comes Good

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Canon, No Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-08-07
Updated: 2003-08-07
Packaged: 2018-12-27 01:42:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12071088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: A bad experience brings back some very good memories.





	From the Bad Comes Good

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

Anything in *stars* is stuff that Justin is remembering.  
**********

 

Brian starred up in awe at his lover. It had been a very long time since he’d seen the boy like this. In fact he thought that this was over, that they’d moved past this; but here they were, more than a year after the bashing, and Justin had gone into a frantic rage. Brian flinched as a jar of peaches hit a wall in the kitchen and exploded into a million pieces. Brian was off his game, and was working busily to remember how to calm Justin down. He had known enough, however, to know not to try to touch Justin just yet.

“Fucking bastard! Son-of-a-bitch! How could he…Why did he…Goddamn it! Shit!” Justin was screaming as he chucked a bottle of JB across the room where it shattered against the floor, spilling the contents. He stormed over to the counter and picked up the lemon jar. Brian knew he had to do something, and he finally felt confident enough to do so.

“Okay Justin, okay. I know, and you know that you are not mad at the lemon jar. So please put it down,” he said calmly and slowly as if talking to a child. Justin hesitated. “Come on Justin, put down the lemon jar.” Justin reluctantly placed the lemon jar back on the counter. Only now did Brian approach the young man. He wrapped his arms around him and felt Justin’s body tense under the physical contact. “What’s 12 times 4?” Brian spoke barely above a whisper.

“48,” Justin answered, his voice even quieter than Brian’s.

“Who was our last President?” They’d done this drill several times before. Brian would just keep asking Justin questions until Justin calmed down. Not only did it get Justin’s mind off whatever he was ragging about, it also helped Brian figure out the exact magnitude of the rage (the less questions he had to ask, the less the magnitude was).

“Bill Clinton.”

“Where are we right now?”

“The loft.”

“How old are you?”

“Nineteen.”

“How old am I?”

“Thirty-one, but you still tell people you’re 28,” Justin answered with a slight smile in his voice as he wrapped his arm around Brian’s waist. Brian sighed. Okay, so they were in the high-medium range.

“Come on,” Brian said as he led Justin into the bedroom. He removed the other man’s shoes and then his own. When Justin had positioned himself on his side, Brian scooted up behind him and wrapped his arms around the boy. “Sleep.”

“I’m not tired,” Justin said through a yawn.

“Yes you are.”

“No I’m…” Justin didn’t finish his sentence before falling asleep. Brian waited 20 minutes before getting up to assess the damage to his loft. He stood at the top of the steps. Not too bad; not good either. A couple of chairs were on their sides. The glass would be easy enough to clean up. The hardest part would be to remove the orange juice stain on the carpet. Brian sighed heavily and got the broom and dust pan and started sweeping.

*~*~*

Justin woke up 45 minutes later with a pounding headache. At first he could barely remember what happened. *PIFA…Walking…Fear…Running…Breaking glass…Brian…* Suddenly everything came back to him, only making the headache worse. Chris Hobbs. He’d seen Chris Hobbs on his way home from the PIFA. He’d seen Chris Hobbs laughing and joking with two other guys, and then he looked up at Justin and he’d started crossing the street. That’s when Justin had started to run. He didn’t even stop when he was sure he’d lost Hobbs. He didn’t stop till he got back to the loft. And when he got home, as the fear passed, the anger set in and then…the rage! Brian had been there, at the top of the steps. Justin got up and stood in the same place Brian had stood. He could see Brian scrubbing a spot on the carpet. The orange juice he’d thrown. Justin felt a pang of guilt in his stomach. Brian looked up. He went over to the sink and dropped the scrub brush into it and then he went over to Justin.

“Feeling better?” He asked.

Justin nodded but added, “I kinda have a headache though.” Brian walked past Justin to the bathroom and came out with a small orange prescription bottle. He then proceeded to the kitchen and came back with a bottle of water. Justin swallowed two of his pills and sat on the top step. Brian sat on the second. “I guess you’d like to know what happened.”

“It would be nice,” Brian agreed. Justin shuffled his feet a little before he spoke.

“I saw Hobbs today coming home from the PIFA.” Anger flashed behind Brian’s eyes.

“Yeah?” He answered simply, although obviously thrown.

“Yeah, and I thought I saw him coming toward me and I panicked. When I got home…I don’t know; I was just so angry and confused. I’m sorry about the mess.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Brian stood and pulled Justin to his feet. “All that matters is that you’re here, he’s gone, and we have the whole afternoon to be ridiculous.” Brian smiled, hesitated, and then kissed Justin. *Ridiculous…Kiss…*Why does this seem like dejavu?

*Ridiculously romantic…  
Brian twirling me…  
Dancing…We’re dancing…  
It’s all so…ridiculously romantic…  
And then kissing…And there are lots of people…school kids…  
The prom! The prom! The prom!  
More twirling…but not dancing…laughing…  
Ridiculously romantic…  
Another kiss…soft kiss…loving kiss…  
Ridiculous…  
Ridiculous…  
Ridiculous…*

“Hey, hey where’d you go?” Brian shook Justin gently. Then Justin smiled wide. “What is it?”

“Brian I remember! I remember everything about the Prom! I remember our dance, and our kiss in front of everyone and the kiss at the jeep. Everything!” Justin jumped into Brian’s arms and hugged him tightly. “I love you, Brian Kinney.” They kissed and backed into the bedroom.

“And I…And I…” Brian took a deep breath. “I love you, too.” Justin smiled even wider.

“I know,” he said. And they tumbled back onto the bed and got lost in each other.


End file.
